<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Changeling by pandoras_library</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737446">Changeling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandoras_library/pseuds/pandoras_library'>pandoras_library</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hiveswap, Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brooding Caverns (Homestuck), Developing Friendships, F/F, Female Friendship, Gen, Hiveswap: Friendsim, Jadebloods (Homestuck), Limebloods (Homestuck), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, folykl and boldir are friends because i said so, i promise the style changes drastically between the first two chapters, read chapter two before deciding to drop this pls, voidrot, what im saying is, yes boldirs a limeblood in this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:55:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737446</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandoras_library/pseuds/pandoras_library</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about a limeblood trying her best to understand the society she lives in and make friends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Limeblood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The first chapter is drastically different in writing style to the others.</p><p>Also, I'm extremely inconsistent with troll language, since people who don't know anything about homestuck are going to read this, and I want them to be able to read it without constantly googling. I left in the ones that I think people can guess from context, and the ones I couldn't really replace.</p><p>Please don't expect this to have amazing writing or anything. I wrote this to make myself feel better after stuff at home happened. Let an enby write about their comfort character/biggest kin in peace smh</p><p>I would love it if you would comment,,, please,,,, anything,,,,,,,,,,,,,</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Diary</p>
<p>The brooding caverns aren’t quite as beautiful as most trolls tend to imagine they are.</p>
<p>Actually, they’re quite ugly. They’ve got a low ceiling with hanging rocks that love to hit you in the head when you stand up, and all of us jades live in one big hive together, and whenever there are grubs about they’re just sort of laying on the ground (it’s actually really hard to not crush them. But if you do step on one, at least three other jades will come out of nowhere to tear your legs off). Then there’s the darkness, even though they’re the only place in all of Alternia that doesn’t need to be dark all the time! Just keep it dark where the grubs are, and let the hive itself be light, how hard is it?</p>
<p>It’s no wonder that so many jades wish they were born into a different caste. Being stuck in these dark, suspiciously damp caverns, caring for the mothergrub, generally just arguing with the other jades… most of whom wish they had a different job. Then there’s the weirdos who think they’re rainbow drinkers. Honestly, we have to stop someone from dying to ‘achieve their true form’ every second wipe. </p>
<p>Today is a day that many jades dread. A day that just about every one considers either the worst or simply the most stressful one.</p>
<p>The day the drones arrive with the filial pails. </p>
<p>Something happened today. Something big. That’s what I want to talk to you about, diary. </p>
<p>Well, you’re not much of a diary. Diaries are always shown in media as books that people write into for months upon months. You’re a bunch of paper that I stuck together, which I’ll only write a single entry into before hiding and never looking at again. Is that still a diary, by definition? I dunno, I’m not a fucking diary expert. Besides, you’re not the fucking diary drones, so you can’t tell me what to do. </p>
<p>… Hm. It would be awful if the drones caught wind of this. Maybe I should destroy it instead. </p>
<p>Speaking of drones, they came with the filial pails today. Meaning us in the caverns had an awful lot of work to do. Some of us were more excited than others.</p>
<p>Sure, a lot of jades love the grubs (or at least tolerate them), but that doesn’t mean they like to assist in the birthing of them. They’d much rather just live doing what they want in the caverns, which is fair.</p>
<p>I respect that opinion. It’s perfectly valid, one may say. That being said, it sure isn’t one that I hold. Getting to take care of grubs is really my favourite part of being a jadeblood! My only real problem with it is the fact that I don’t get to care for them as much as I want to. Yes, I know the point is that only the most naturally strong live!</p>
<p>Still, I wish I could do something to help the weaker grubs. They’re so cute and little, and they can’t do anything to save themselves… I’m not saying that I want to protect them! I’m not a traitor to the empire! I just wish we could help them get on their own two feet (or, uh, many feet.) before they’re sent out into the cruel world. Or immediately culled for failing their trials. Honestly there’s not much difference.</p>
<p>Again, I would like to reiterate how much of a loyal member of the empire I am. I do not sympathise with failed members of troll society. I do not have illegal fantasies of adopting a bunch of weak and unworthy wigglers. I would never break tradition to give just a little sopor to injured grubs so they have a better chance of surviving the trials.</p>
<p>Now that this has been established to anyone reading this, I would absolutely adore for said anyone to stop reading. Stop. Right now, please. I don’t even know how you found this. I hid it so well! That’s so cruel of you, honestly. If you wish to ever be someone I respect ever, you will stop. Now. Do it. Do it. If you don’t, I’ll be really super sad. You don’t want to make me sad, do you?</p>
<p>Anyways, now that I’m alone, I would love to actually recount what happened today. Because it’s honestly the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m genuinely reeling. </p>
<p>When I woke up, it was a perfectly normal day. Of course I overslept, because when do I not, so Freyde had to practically drag me out of my recuperacoon. I perked right up when she told me what today was, though! In my defense, we don’t get reminders about these things anymore since we’re apparently too old to need them. It’s so stupid- I’m only seven sweeps! I’m young!</p>
<p>Anyways, I went with Freyde to get the other jades up and ready. She totally asked me to help because she likes me. Renket keeps saying that my palecrush is totally one sided, but she’s just trying to make me feel bad, I can tell. </p>
<p>Speaking of Renket, she complained and grumbled the whole time we were trying to make her come out to the caverns. She thinks she’s so cool, doesn’t she? Well, not cool enough to escape her duties to the mothergrub! We had to literally drag her since she was pretending that she couldn’t walk- though she miraculously regained her ability to use her legs the moment that she saw Prieme. Typical. She’s so happy to embarrass herself in front of her fellow jades, but her kismesis appears and suddenly she’s too mature for that. </p>
<p>Ugh, I should probably stop rambling about people’s love lives and just tell the story. </p>
<p>When we got to the mothergrub, all the other jades were already there (well, some could be missing, I don’t know all of them.) and the drones were getting to work. There were also some grubs laying around already, which had me squealing.</p>
<p>Us three got to work straight away- even Renket. She went to help out with the lusii, who were clearly getting antsy, while Freyde (after bidding me goodbye, of course!) went to the mothergrub. Once they were gone, I went straight to the grubs! Not just because I wanted to, of course. It’s an important part of our job to look around at the grubs, make sure none get hurt, and see which ones are born sickly and weak. </p>
<p>… I mainly just do the first two, though. I’m hardly the first jade to ever slack off, though. It just hurts my heart to see the grubs in pain- I’d much rather let the others focus on that specifically. </p>
<p>For basically the whole time, I helped flip grubs back onto their legs, walked by injured ones (I had left without any sopor, which unfortunately meant I couldn’t sneakily heal any of them, which sucked!), kinda just held them, stuff like that. Aren’t I great at my job? I sure managed to look at some grubs. Not everyone can look at grubs.</p>
<p>I’m stalling. You can tell I’m stalling. Sorry, I’m still not quite sure if writing about my crimes is a good idea.</p>
<p>(... I can’t believe I just apologised to a bundle of papers.)</p>
<p>I’m going to jump in now. Might as well do it. The drones probably caught my sign anyway.</p>
<p>While I was walking around and checking the grubs, I noticed a little head hidden, all tucked up between rocks. Nobody else seemed to notice the grub, so I decided that I would be the one to look over this one.</p>
<p>When I pushed aside one of the rocks to see if it was injured in any way, my pusher literally stopped. </p>
<p>At first I thought it must have been the lighting. Maybe it was a gold or an olive who’s colour had simply been distorted by the darkness. It wouldn’t be the first time I had misunderstood the colour of a grub. So I took off my cardigan, turned it inside-out so the sign wasn’t visible (it never hurts to be cautious!), and scooped the grub up in it, making sure it was completely covered- just in case.</p>
<p>Once I had snuck into a lighter part of the caverns, I pulled back just a tiny bit of the cardigan and took a peek. Surely I was mistaken. After pacifying my fears, I’d be able to just put it back down and continue with my work. </p>
<p>Except it didn't pacify shit. The light did nothing but confirm, one-hundred percent, that the grub was a limebolood.</p>
<p>When I tell you I nearly dropped the damn thing-</p>
<p>I was, to put it simply, terrified. Limebloods are dangerous! This one was only a grub, but it could still have some scary powers or something. Were the other grubs in danger? Clearly the smartest idea would be to tell the others, or just like… chuck it at a drone. That way I could make sure nobody got hurt! The only problem was that the grub was sorta leaning into me through the cardigan, and when I pulled more back to see its face again, it looked so harmless.</p>
<p>Maybe that was a front? Something it was doing on purpose? After all, limebloods were driven to extinction for a reason! The fact that it was cute didn’t really mean anything. Even if the grub is harmless, it would grow up to be just as awful as other limes. Really, letting it get culled is the smartest choice. It’s not even like I would have to do it myself!</p>
<p>But looking at the little thing, with its wide eyes and cute clunky horns, I found a deep dread settle within me. Could I really let it get culled? Grubs get culled all the time- and I know that they wouldn’t have had a good life had they lived- but I never liked that. It’s why I try to help them with injuries. Just a single injury wouldn’t ruin their chances of living later on in life, not like illnesses or genetic weakness. But being a limeblood? That’s beyond a genetic weakness. It’s a crime in itself. It’s something that shouldn’t happen, mostly doesn’t happen.</p>
<p>Sighing, I tucked the cardigan back over the grub. I didn’t want it to keep looking at me. The plan was to take it over to Frayde, who would know what to do far more than I would, then turn around and not think about the death that I had partially caused, like I do every time.</p>
<p>I started to make my way back to the rest of the jades, looking around for Frayde. The little bundle was sorta wriggling around in my arms, so I held it out in front of me. Getting attached to the grubs is one of the biggest mistakes a jade can make, (One that I definitely don’t make every time, causing Frayde and Renket to have to come to my respiteblock with food to comfort me. That’s not a thing that happens.) especially when it’s one that has to be culled.</p>
<p>Here’s the thing. I was totally going to do it! But before I got into the crowd, chaos broke out.</p>
<p>There was a horrid crunching noise, followed by a guttural roar and the sound of thick thumps against the cavern ground. Jades immediately flew into action, working to herd and relax the angered lusii as the drones kept careful watch, likely deciding whether any cullings were in order.</p>
<p>As this was going on, I drew the grub back into my chest, feeling it curl up in fear. It was that fear that spurred my pusher into action, really. If the stampeding lusii scared the poor thing, then I couldn’t begin to imagine it’s culling. Empathy swam through me, and I found myself moving without meaning to. For some reason, I simply couldn’t let this specific grub die. </p>
<p>I didn’t leave immediately. I couldn’t! There was absolutely no way this grub could survive without a lusus, especially when all of troll society would be against it. It had to be something small, something I could scoop up with ease and carry around without being noticed. Something that could chuck a grub onto its back and run away with ease. </p>
<p>From experience, I knew that something so small and quick would be darting around by the edges of the caverns, likely trying to protect grubs or at least themselves. So I clutched the grub closely to my chest, and inched around the walls, hoping to attract a lusus with that unmistakable smell of distressed troll baby. There weren't many around, given how they were busy with the stampede or whatever it was they were trying. Also some had already attached themselves to grubs. Cute, but also usually the cause of these issues.</p>
<p>Multiple times, I had to turn right around so the bundle wasn’t visible to the drones, which is how I ended up finding something.</p>
<p>And by that I mean it found me. </p>
<p>While I was waiting for the drone to decide I was just busy or something, a furry creature darted straight into my fucking ankle. Either it’s fierce attack left it winded, or it wanted me to give it attention, because it stopped and sat on the ground in front of me. The drone looked away, giving me the perfect opportunity to kneel down and try to convince it to help me commit treason.</p>
<p>As I reached out a careful hand to pet the lusus, I realised that it was actually a little squirrel. In a way, it reminded me of the limeblood, and I knew right away that it was the right lusus for it. Also because it was kinda my only choice.</p>
<p>I opened up the cardigan and lowered it to the ground so the lusus could see into it. It looked at the grub, then pressed its head against it, then walked willingly into the cardigan. Once both were safely tucked in, (and I had arranged it so that the lusus couldn’t jump out, flighty fucker.), I got back up. When I checked, no drone was watching me, so I decided to take this opportunity to leave. </p>
<p>Thoughts rushed into my head at a million miles a minute as I snuck around to the entrance of the brooding caverns, only barely managing to avoid the eyes (?) of the drones and other trolls. What was I even doing? I didn’t even know.</p>
<p>Away from where I could be caught and culled on the spot, I broke into a run, still not entirely sure just what I was doing. All I knew was that I might as well do it then. That if I was going to spontaneously attempt to give a good life to something that by all means shouldn’t, I should commit to it. And if I got culled, then I was close to being tossed off the planet anyway.</p>
<p>I didn’t think about being culled for very long.</p>
<p>Thankfully, it was still bright outside, so nobody noticed the jadeblood darting down the road with a suspicious bundle lumped in her arms. Which was good, because I know for a fact that most bluebloods wouldn’t hesitate to call the drones on me, and a good amount of purples would just bash my cranial plates in myself. </p>
<p>At that point, I really had to start thinking of a plan. I’m bad at making plans at the best of times, and that sure as hell wasn’t the best of times. I wanted to help, badly, but there just… wasn’t much I could do. I don’t really know anyone outside of the caverns, I didn’t have enough money to get good supplies, I didn’t have time to think it through or set anything up.</p>
<p>So I stalled. Looking into the little bundle, I could see something squirrel-like about it- her. Her. Those features, at first, I had simply noticed because they reminded me of the lusus, started to form an idea in my mind. I didn’t know much about limebloods. Perhaps they all had the animalistic characteristics of olivebloods, or perhaps I was just imagining things with this specific one. Either way, I knew what to do.</p>
<p>Now, dumpster diving is hardly a skill I indulge in often. It’s gross, and unbecoming of anyone midblood or higher, but I had to brave it for this specific occasion. It took a short trip into a slightly more lowblood part of town, then several short trips into dumpsters (ew), but I eventually found a suspiciously olive-stained pinafore with a sign resembling a question mark on it. First, I took my cardigan off of the grub and lusus, then let the lusus take shelter by a dumpster, then remembered that limes probably can’t handle the sun (oops), then wrapped the grub up in the cardigan, then finally gave the lusus the dress. </p>
<p>I gave it a long look, as if trying to make it understand that the grub is to grow up- if she grows up- as an oliveblood, though one separated from other trolls. As if trying to make it understand that she’s in danger, and will be until she dies.</p>
<p>I’m hardly an expert in lusus body language, but I like to think that the way it stepped in front of the pile of fabric was it’s way of accepting my request, and telling me that it would protect her. Damn thing better do a good job. I didn’t risk culling just for the limeblood to die in a sweep.</p>
<p>With great reluctance, I finally returned to the caverns. The sun was setting, and the other jades would realise I was gone soon if they hadn’t already. Well, one had already. Freyde ran straight at me the moment I arrived, asking me where I was. I made up some lie about getting stressed out from the drones and rampaging lusus, and she seemed to soften. </p>
<p>We went back to the hive and hung out together, eventually being joined by a very tired Renket, who grumbled on and on about how difficult the lusii were to herd. Freyde reminded her, multiple times, that she had to help as well. I dodged the subject. Renket would absolutely be angry at me for ditching. Hell, I only managed to avoid Freyde’s wrath by appealing to her sympathy.</p>
<p>Actually, I ended up leaving to my respiteblock early, spinning my earlier lie into a new one about how I had felt tired all day, and how I might be coming down with something. Nothing sleep can’t fix, I assured them.</p>
<p>In case you hadn’t guessed, pile of stuck together pieces of paper which I’m using as a diary, I didn’t sleep. I tried, but I couldn’t. All I could think about was the limeblood grub and her adoptive lusus. There was more I could do, but not without being culled. That would have been the right thing to do. Probably. If we’re going along with the assumption that the limeblood won’t do anything bad should she grow up, which sort of scares me to consider. The implications are concerning.</p>
<p>Still, I’m a selfish troll, and I don’t want to die. I also don’t want to betray the empire too much, because I don’t want to feel responsible should the limeblood turn out to be as despicable as the heiress makes us all believe. And I don’t want to think about it.</p>
<p>I’m going to destroy these papers now. It’s making me cringe just to read my ramblings from the beginning, and I’ll be culled immediately if anyone else sees this.</p>
<p>Perhaps I’ll write her a letter. I can leave it in the same alleyway tomorrow, and if she ever grows old enough to wonder how she survived, her lusus can show it to her. I can only hope that they’ll still be there tomorrow. </p>
<p>Sincerely, Priiyo Fendum</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Troll Etiquette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A limeblood accidentally steals someone's identity and helps a goldblood assault an indigoblood</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(my excuse for everyone being out of character is that this takes place a few sweeps before hiveswap)<br/>(dont worry though, boldir will have PLENTY of character development. i can assure you that she'll be the boldir you know by the end of this.)<br/>(also, i couldnt figure out how to do folykls quirk bc ao3 snapped it out of existence. just... pretend its there. i'll fix it in future chapters if i figure out how to.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somewhere in Outglut, Thrashthrust, a young goldblood girl darts into an alleyway. She doesn’t know where she’s going, just that she needs to go.</p><p>Destroying a drone is quite possibly the worst idea she’s ever had. </p><p>Thump! Her whole body slams into something big and plastic. A dumpster? She only hesitates for a moment. It’s a better idea than dying.</p><p>Flailing around a little- both from the panic and the fact that she literally can’t see where she’s going- she manages to haul herself up and into the dumpster.</p><p>For a good ten or so minutes, she stays entirely, painfully still. Her pusher feels like it’s thumping in her neck. Her skin feels like it’s being boiled under the heat of her own overwhelming fear. Then, finally, the noise stops. The drone buzzes as it gives up and retreats, slowly getting quieter and quieter until Folykl finally lets herself take a deep breath.</p><p>Then she nearly has a goddamn aneurysm when somebody else speaks to her.</p><p>♥</p><p>Hours earlier, a limeblood girl peeks around the back of a dumpster. She’s all too small for the olive-green dress she’s wearing, and her big eyes and long hair certainly don’t help her to look very threatening. Not that she cares, or knows why she should. Right now, she’s only really interested in the burgundyblood who’s dragging a trash bag along the ground with psychic powers. Her foot shakes involuntarily as she waits, trying to stay out of view.</p><p>A lusus tugs at that foot, trying to pull her completely behind the dumpster, but she just ignores them. If they want to keep her from doing what she wants, they can at least try harder.</p><p>What? She can be rebellious, and watching people use their powers is harmless. Well, unless they have really good powers. And little morals. That’s not likely enough for her to seriously worry about it though. She’ll take her chances. You only live once, or whatever.</p><p>The burgundyblood drops the bag and leaves without any issue. Squirrelmom can’t do shit to stop the limeblood from stumbling over, slamming her hands against walls and the ground so she doesn’t topple right to the ground. </p><p>She drops to her knees and fiddles with the knot with her claws, trying to be neat. Being neat fails, and she tears a hole at the top. Inside of it is mostly just useless trash (obviously), but she sees one thing that gets her attention. It takes both arms and a lot of effort, but she managed to haul a huge book from the bottom of the pile. Damn thing could kill a meowbeast if you dropped it.</p><p>Squirrelmom bounds over and onto her shoulder, looking at the book. They seem confused, and the limeblood is fairly annoyed. Personally, she thinks it’s obvious. She stays neutral, though, as she shakily stands up, book held against her chest, and sits down in front of the dumpster.</p><p>Her reading abilities are not what one would consider ‘good’ or ‘even remotely developed’, since she taught herself by reading posters and random book pages that would end up in the trash. Still, she has a grasp on the Alternian alphabet, and she’s fairly capable when it comes to putting those letters together to make words. Sometimes she can even figure out words that she didn’t know already from context. That’s good.</p><p>She traces the letters on the cover, sounding out ‘troll etiquette’. Well, she surely knows what a troll is. Etiquette, though? That’s anyone’s guess. The drawing on the cover is interesting though.</p><p>Inside, there’s pictures, thank fuck. As much as she’d love to sit there and try to figure out words she doesn’t know, pictures are good. So good. Thanks to them, she can tell that each page seems to be about something different, all related to manners and politeness. </p><p>There seems to be an emphasis on different blood types, with different advice for each. Lowbloods are advised to follow everything to a T (but not to lay it on too thick), while midbloods are told to be dignified but not doormats- it seems that the higher up it got, the less it has to say. No matter how much she looks, and how many different possible words she considers for it, she simply can’t find her own blood colour. Eventually, Squirrelmom snakes their body around to tap at the olive green sign on her dress.</p><p>So, confused yet willing, she turns to look at the directions for olivebloods. Maybe her blood is supposed to be olive? Maybe she’s seeing it wrong, or she has some sort of disease that makes it look lighter. Whatever it is, she’s willing to follow the olive instructions.</p><p>The notes for olivebloods at the beginning of the book seem to be under the impression that she’s impulsive and animalistic. At the end of the page, it recommends that she starts with the chapter on greeting people.</p><p>She’s already been reading for so long, but she can’t help but look anyway. The idea of learning how she can talk to other trolls captivates her. Never in her life has she spoken to another troll, but statistically, she’s pretty sure that it’ll happen eventually. She wants to make a good impression when that night comes.</p><p>It says all sorts of things, and has all sorts of drawings to accompany it. She doesn’t understand a lot of it, but she reads the words and says them out loud. If she can say them, and knows when to say them, then it doesn’t matter if she knows what they mean.</p><p>Eventually, her eyes get all blurry and the words begin to fade and swim on the page. She’s entirely planning to fight through it and keep going- after all, she needs to know what to do if she meets a troll, and that could be tonight for all she knows!- but Squirrelmom whacks her neck gently with their tail until she finally puts the book gently down on the ground. Squirrelmoms’ tail slumps in relief, then jolts back up as the limeblood picks them up and places them on the edge of the dumpster so that they’re almost eye level.</p><p>The limeblood looks down at the book and tries her hardest to remember what it says as she backs up. She’s not quite sure whether the first troll she meets will be a highblood or lowblood, but she decides that she might as well treat everyone like a highblood, right? It seems more polite. </p><p>She clutches bunches of her dress, then holds it out and makes a passable attempt at a curtsey. Squirrelmom is baffled.</p><p>Casting a look back to the book, she runs through the little script in her head. Then she makes eye contact with Squirrelmom, because that’s simply how you’re supposed to start conversations, even though it makes her uncomfortable. </p><p>“(hello,)” she say, “(it’s lovely to meet you.)”</p><p>Her voice comes out far too quiet and far too flat, but she doesn’t know that. In fact, she’s quite pleased at herself for being polite. As she should be, honestly. Manners are not something that the average troll concerns themself with. </p><p>Another look at the book.</p><p>“(psst i should tell you my name now. pretend i did that.)”</p><p>Slightly embarrassed, she grips her skirt and clenches the layers of fabric in her fists. Squirrelmom gives her a concerned look and makes to get down, but the limeblood gives them a look that clearly communicates that they’re going to stay right the hell there. She can figure this out. If she doesn’t haven’t a name, then she’ll get one. </p><p>With newfound determination, she gets up and starts searching. True, she’s not sure how to go about finding a name, but she’s sure to get some ideas at least. Trolls leave things with their names on them here all the time. Actually, would it be terribly rude to take someone else’s name?</p><p>She looks at all sorts of things, nothing down everything she finds (mentally- she can’t write, and wouldn’t have any paper even if she could.) but nothing feels right. Not that she’s picky, necessarily, she just wants something that she can use for her whole life. </p><p>While she’s sorting through old school books and checking the names, whispering them as she goes to see how they sound, there’s a weight on her neck. It’s Squirrelmom, of course. They’re pawing at her collar, tickling her neck with her tail. At first, she assumes that they’re just trying to get in a good spot, but as they keep brushing their tail against her, she realises that they’re trying to say something.</p><p>Their claws are digging at the tag on her dress, so she decides to assume that she knows what they mean.</p><p>She pulls off her dress so that she’s just in her blouse and black shorts. Sure enough, there’s a name on the back of the collar, carefully stitched in by somebody who probably was not very experienced with sewing.</p><p>“(boldir lamati,)” she whispers.</p><p>It’s warm. And it makes sense, to choose the name that’s on her clothes already. So she puts the dress back on, smiling softly at the feeling of the layers of fabric gently sitting around her legs. Something about it feels more like it belongs to her than it did before. That’s silly, she knows, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling all giggly as she places Squirrelmom back on the edge of the dumpster and continues her introduction.</p><p>“(psst my name is boldir lamati. what’s yours???)”</p><p>Squirrelmom chitters happily in response.</p><p>“(that’s a wonderful name. thank you for telling me. what brings you here???)”</p><p>Boldir’s not entirely sure what they’re talking about- telling each other their names, obviously, but the meaning of a lot of the words is pretty much lost on her. Just as Squirrelmom’s about to respond, something happens.</p><p>It feels as if some sort of heavy fog settles in the air as they hear it. That all-too familiar metallic thumping, quiet yet painfully loud all at the same time. It’s out in the streets, and it’ll be in the alleyway soon enough. They don’t need to see it to know what it is. To know what to do.</p><p>♥</p><p>The annoying thing about hiding in a dumpster is that dumpsters were not made to hide in.</p><p>This isn’t the first time that one of the monsters has checked around the alleyway. Every time that it happens, Boldir and Squirrelmom hide until it goes away, which doesn’t tend to take long. She’s not sure what the monsters are, just that they’re big and dangerous and bad things will happen if one sees her.</p><p>Ever since she found out about them, she’s tried to convince herself that they’re just some evil force who attack anyone they see, but she can’t help but worry, with the way that Squirrelmom acts about it, that she’s done something wrong and they’re after her specifically.</p><p>That’s a lot scarier.</p><p>Whenever the monsters come around, they usually just patrol, so Boldir’s assuming that they’re doing that again and it’ll leave soon with no trouble. That’s one of the reasons why she’s so surprised when the whir is replaced with a horrible screeching noise, followed by another troll stumbling into the very same dumpster. </p><p>At first her pusher stops. Whoever this is, they’re the first troll she’s ever met and that could mean literally anything. What if this troll is the reason for that awful noise?</p><p>Still, she doesn’t believe in judging a book by its cover, or whichever metaphor is most appropriate for this situation, so she stays still and continues to wait. The other troll doesn’t seem to acknowledge her- or Squirrelmom, who’s kind of losing it- though. They’re probably also just waiting until they’re certain that nothing else is coming for them though.</p><p>When about five minutes have passed, Boldir can literally feel a weight lift off of her shoulders. She turns to the other troll, who still isn’t doing anything. Probably just being careful. Maybe they’ll get out without saying anything.</p><p>Boldir thinks back to the book, and her little practice with Squirrelmom. She didn’t expect it would happen so soon, or like this, but she can still make a good first impression.</p><p>And so she turns to them, stalls for long enough that Squirrelmom whacks her horn with their tail, and whispers.</p><p>“(psst are you hiding too???)”</p><p>Of all the reactions, the troll jolting so hard that they hit their head against the dumpster is not the one that Boldir was betting on. It does give her a good chance to look at them though. She’s a girl, with somehow even longer and messier hair than Boldir, almost entirely covering her yellow headphones. The most noticeable feature by far is her eyes. Or, more accurately, the holes in her head where her eyes should be, pitch black and wide open.</p><p>When she finally speaks, it’s in a scratchy tone, with abnormally long pauses between phrases.</p><p>“what             the fuck”</p><p>Okay wow that’s not what Boldir expected. What does that even mean?</p><p>Boldir decides to just keep talking, since she can’t really come up with a response for something she doesn’t understand. She’s somehow even more nervous as she continues.</p><p>“(hi. my name is boldir lamati. i live here.)” she whispers. It’s not nearly as elegant as she was hoping it would be.</p><p>The other trolls’ face scrunches up, and for a moment it seems like she’s going to ignore Boldir entirely. Then she gives her (well, the space slightly to the left of her) a look.</p><p>“you live     in a dumpster” she snickers.</p><p>“(the whole alleyway, actually. sorry.)”</p><p>It could just be that this is her first time talking to somebody who has the cognitive function to reply, but this troll is strangely intimidating. She just seems so… well, not necessarily mean, more like somebody who won’t be deliberately kind. Somebody who isn’t hostile, but doesn’t care what people think about here enough to hide her thoughts. At least not when talking to little girls that live in alleyways.</p><p>The point is, she makes Boldir nervous.</p><p>To her surprise, though, the other troll actually softens a fraction, leaning back against the dumpster.</p><p>“same           well      i used to live in one	             dont anymore            drones know now” she sighs. “fucken drones    amiright”</p><p>“(drones? is that what those things are called???)”</p><p>She gives Boldir a strange look. “uh	yeah”</p><p>“(oh, alright. i didn’t know.)”</p><p>“why are you            so damn quiet”</p><p>A hand instinctively goes up to Squirrelmom as Boldir ducks her head, going even quieter. “(sorry.)”</p><p>The other troll raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. “you hatch yesterday        or what” she laughs. It’s a breathy, mocking laugh. “how long have you lived here         anyway”</p><p>“(as long as i can remember.)”</p><p>“yeah        wow	       that explains things          you really never had a hive                     huh”</p><p>Boldir decides not to dwell on that too much. She tries not to think about how the other troll somehow seems to both (platonically!) pity her and think that her whole life is absolutely hilarious. Instead, she decides to ask a question instead.</p><p>“(why don’t you have a hive???)”</p><p>The other troll raises an eyebrow, then moves her hair so that her eyes (well, lack of eyes) are clearly visible. “you mean	you cant figure it out             not a clue”</p><p>At first Boldir shakes her head, then she realises that she can’t see it. “(not exactly)”</p><p>“mothergrub       youre a dumbass” she groans, half-frustrated and half-amused. “voidrot        means i dont retain energy properly          which means im dying            constantly	                      all the time	          so i just steal energy              from other people”</p><p>She’s never heard of voidrot, but she’s also never heard of a lot of things, so that’s fair. It sounds awful though, and the other troll’s nonchalant attitude towards it makes it difficult to know what to say.</p><p>“(oh. do you need any now???)”</p><p>“nah	got some off a blueblood like half an hour ago            then they called the fucken drones on me	                pussy”</p><p>For some reason, Boldir can’t help but laugh at the way she words it. “(are you not allowed to take energy from people???)”</p><p>“im not even                  allowed to exist” she grins as she says it, as if that’s a good thing. She sounds proud, almost. Like she’s happy about her life of running around as a fugitive and stealing energy from random trolls. Almost.</p><p>“what i want to know                          is why youre hiveless           you mutated or something”</p><p>Just as Boldir’s about to mention her blood not quite being olive (it’s really the only guess she has for any sort of mutation), Squirrelmom, who has been gradually curling tighter around Boldir’s neck, springs off and opens the dumpster, and Boldir trails off. The other troll jolts so aggressively that it makes Boldir realise that she neglected to mention that she has a lusus at all. Suddenly, she finds herself wondering if she has her own lusus. Maybe a raccoon or something? </p><p>Guessing that it must be safe, they both get out into the alleyway. Boldir tries to subtly kick the etiquette book behind the dumpster. </p><p>Now that it’s easier to see, she can tell that the other troll is a goldblood. That means she’s close to olive, right? So maybe Boldir should be more casual when talking to her. Wait, has she been casual this whole time? It’s actually hard to tell.</p><p>The goldblood immediately slumps down against the front of the dumpster. </p><p>“its getting         worse         yknow”</p><p>“(excuse me???)”</p><p>“voidrot” she huffs “used to manage	ages	          now i cant go longer than an hour    without charging”</p><p>Boldir moves to sit beside her. “(oh. do you want to take energy from me???)”</p><p>“nah	still got a bit till i need to	shouldnt be hard to find a gold here          they have the most	               more worth it that way” she shrugs.</p><p>“(are you going to start looking now???)”</p><p>“                  nah”</p><p>They sit together for a few moments, until Boldir can’t help but verbalise her worries. Even if it’s impolite, and the goldblood must think about it a lot, she just has to know.</p><p>“(what are you going to do if it’s getting worse??? eventually you won’t have the time to get new people every time.)”</p><p>She leans her head to the side. “thought about that	            ill just find a real good psiionic to leech off till i die          or they do    either one”</p><p>“(do you have lusus??? i’m sure you could get it from them.)”</p><p>“maybe        but shes probably dead    	and if shes alive            then ill never find her like this         anyway”</p><p>“(what happened???)”</p><p>“havent seen her since i got ran out”</p><p>Boldir pulls her knees up to her chin. She can’t imagine being alone all this time, and this troll looks to be a sweep or so older than her too. </p><p>“(so… you’re alone???)”</p><p>Her face practically becomes invisible as she tilts her head further forward, her thick hair covering it entirely. “i guess          you could say that               if youre an asshole"</p><p>Right as Boldir’s about to apologise, she can hear the tell-tale furious stomping of another troll. Squirrelmom, who’s been on the verge of the lusus version of a mental breakdown, totally freaks. They pull at Boldir until she scrambles up and gets back behind the dumpster with the book. The goldblood seems like she’s about to follow when a young indigo storms into the alley.</p><p>Pink-streaked long hair hangs around her upper arms in thick segmented parts, complimenting her pink-rimmed tennis skirt and tennis shoes.</p><p>Also her fucking gun.</p><p>She points it straight at the goldblood. “H*y, why the f*ck is the dr*ne I s*nt a d*mn tr*shpile?!”</p><p>Admittedly, it does take Boldir precisely too long to understand what she said at all. How does somebody do that with their mouth. What. This is not a fun experience when your knowledge of Alternian barely rivals a three-sweep old.</p><p>It’s entirely possible that she genuinely doesn’t know that there’s a gun in her face, but the goldblood is remarkably calm. Actually, she just looks annoyed. Like this far stronger troll is just an obnoxious wriggler. </p><p>“why	the fuck           do you care”</p><p>“B*cause y*u f*cking att*cked me!” the indigo shrieks. “I c*n’t just l*t y*u r*n fr*e!”</p><p>Despite her general explosiveness, Boldir notices the way that the indigo’s hand is shaking, her awkward grip on the gun, the way her feet are pointing in on eachother. Boldir’s not sure what she was expecting when she hunted a goldblood down, but she clearly isn’t prepared to shoot her. Maybe that’s how the goldblood managed to be so chill.</p><p>“i didnt      break your drone            or whatever         do i look like              someone who could do that” she deadpans. The noise that the indigo makes says everything.</p><p>She’s scared. She’s stronger than both of them by far (hell, she doesn’t know that she’s outnumbered), but she clearly doesn’t know what she’s doing. Maybe some sort of outside source or pressure is making her believe that she has to do this, that this sort of violent behaviour is simply something that she’s supposed to partake in. Perhaps the real problem here isn’t her threats, or the destroyed drone, but the society that pressures trolls into acting like stereotypes and forces them into little boxes.</p><p>And then she puts a finger on the trigger and absolutely not.</p><p>“It d*esn’t m*tter anyw*y! Y*u st*ll-”</p><p>She is abruptly cut off due to getting a big ass book slammed against the back of her skull. All of the tension in her body leaves at once as she crumples to the ground. Boldir steals her gun. Squirrelmom is unhappy about every single part of this.</p><p>For about a minute, there’s silence. Then Boldir speaks.</p><p>“(is she dead?)”</p><p>“doubt it	shes gonna be pissed though	               we should probably find a new alley”</p><p>If she notices Boldir’s reaction to the ‘we’, she doesn’t mention it. And so she goes along with it. Better not to look a gift hoofbeast in the mouth, and all that. She goes to grab her precious few things as the goldblood does something with the injured indigo. Probably getting energy. Still not questioning it. Today is a day of only questioning the things you want an answer for. Actually, speaking of questions…</p><p>Boldir pauses while zipping her bag closed. “(actually, what’s your name??? if you don’t mind me asking.)”</p><p>The goldblood looks up (almost) at Boldir. “folykl            darane” </p><p>She can’t help but smile. The first troll that she’s ever met, and she ended up becoming her friend, too! It went about as well as she could have hoped, considering… everything. Now she has someone other than her lusus to keep her company! She has a hivemate!</p><p>Thankfully, she does manage to quell her excitement for long enough to respond.</p><p>“(it’s nice to meet you, miss darane.)”</p><p>“wow               never call me that again”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>